


Kiss and Kill

by orphan_account



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-15
Updated: 2012-04-23
Packaged: 2017-11-03 17:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/383976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Gendry is legitimized by Robert before his death. Since he is the eldest of his sons Cersei sees him as a threat and so sends for a Faceless Man to kill him. They end up hiring Arya.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Prologue

Ned Stark paused, quill in hand poised over the paper. He’s not yours Robert. Joffrey is not your son. He raised his eyes to meet those of his dying brother-in-arms, who managed to match his gaze with a hint of confusion. 

Robert needed to know, he told himself firmly. What was that saying, you should never lie to a dying man? Ned’s lips parted and closed, parted and closed, the words on the tip of his tongue daring to come out.

The King was quickly becoming impatient, being on his death bed hadn’t changed that aspect of him. “By the Gods, Ned, spit it out!” he wheezed in a ghost of his former roar, followed by a short sharp cough. 

Ned sighed decidedly and set the board and quill aside. “It’s your eldest son Your Grace.”

“What about him?” 

“He is an apprentice at a smithy, here in Kings Landing.”

Robert lay quiet for a moment, the only sound in the room was that of his ragged breaths. “What are you saying, Ned.” He grunted, his bright blue eyes fixed on the post at the end of the bed. “What of Joffrey, is he not my true born heir?”

“Prince Joffrey is a child born of incest, Your Grace. A child of the Queen and her brother the Kingslayer. He is not your son.”  
Ned had not thought of what reaction to expect until that moment. Anger perhaps or shock, but certainly not laughter. 

After taking a moment to consider Ned’s words, Robert began to shake and a wide smile broke across his face. Soon he was chuckling quietly, Ned was sure if he was no as weak, the King would be howling with laughter. “I never did like that little blonde shit very much.” he admitted, his voice cracking slightly with the effort of his laughter. “So. This smiths apprentice, he’s a bastard, my eldest you say?”

Ned nodded. “He is your Grace. A good lad, skilled as well and much like you when you were young, in looks and temperament...although, perhaps a little less headstrong.” he joked. 

“The seed is strong.” Robert laughed, clutching his fist tightly in approval. “Even if it is a bastard, Gods know I would prefer someone who is more Baratheon than Lannister sat on my throne.” 

“Then legitimise him, Robert.” Ned urged. “Claim Joffrey and his siblings for what they are and have your own blood rule from that Iron Throne.” 

The dying King bowed his head slightly and instructed his Hand to fetch the appropriate documents. Ned returned shortly quill and ink in hand an the rolled up list of Roberts bastard children under his arm. “Seven Hells, how many are there?” Robert muttered, glancing down the list of names. 

Ned smiled. “Enough.” 

Roberts eyes flicked back to the top. “Gendry, Gendry Baratheon. Good name, strong name.” he murmured as he scratched the quill clumsily on the bottom of the paper. Ned took the list and sealed it with the Baratheon family crest. “Show that to no man, Ned. Not until it is time.” 

“Of course, Your Grace.” Ned promised, rising from the bed.

Robert grinned with a mischievous look which made Ned think back to years long gone, and it saddened him. “If there is one think I regret.” he said, quietly. “It’s knowing that I wont live to see the look on Cersei’s face, when my bastard son takes the Iron Throne. Can you imagine it, Ned? All these years of her scheming and it will be me who has the last laugh.” he tried to do just that but it turned into a raspy cough and he stopped rather quickly. 

“I’ll leave you to rest, Robert.” Ned muttered and he turned for the door.


	2. Chapter 2

The moment the cart passed under the huge stone gateway of Kings Landing Arya Stark slide down from the many sacks of grain, landing gracefully on the sandy road. She danced between the army of oncoming horses and travellers until she reached the safety of the shadowed alleyway. 

  


It had been years since she had been in the capital, years since she had been in Westeros, seven to be exact. Those seven years had been spent with the Faceless Men learning how to kill a man, Arya wondered how many girls of ten-and-eight could do that. Not many she’d wager. 

  


She unsheathed Needle and ran her fingers along the blade. _It needs a touch-up_ , she thought looking down at her slightly bloodied finger.  A blacksmith then, she needed to find a blacksmith before she did anything else. The thought of wandering around the capital with a half blunt blade didn’t appeal to Arya greatly. 

  


Keeping her ears pricked for a sound of a hammer and anvil, eyes alert for the burning furnaces, Arya darted through the alleys and streets. She liked moving quickly, it made her feel prepared and in control for what ever kind of situation arose. 

  


It didn’t take her long to come across a smithy. It was only a small one, tucked away in the corner of a busy street filled to the brim with whores, beggars and drunks. In the time it took to get over to the smithy several men had made a grab for her and begun hissing crude suggestions in her ear, before she snatched her arm from their clumsy grasp with such force that it sent them to the ground.

  


The heat of the forge hit her like a solid wall. In the middle of the small room the furnace raged, the hot coals glowed like gold and the fumes made Arya cough sharply the first time they hit the back of her throat. As well as the soft sound of the crackling fires came the chime of metal on metal from the dark corner. 

  


Arya moved towards it, around the spitting flames and ducking under lethal hanging blades, until she found him. 

  


Tucked away in the corner with a hammer in hand and sweat running down toned arms, clearing paths through the soot and dirt which clung to his skin, the blacksmith boy was hunched over the long sword which lay on the anvil, glowing in the centre. The blade sparked at each stroke of the large hammer, the light bouncing back into his bright eyes which burned with a fire of there own fuelled by his clear determination and focus for his work.

  


Arya watched him silently, not wanting to distract him from his task. The boy was so immersed he did not even notice her presence. She hopped quietly on to a large, wooded crate behind her, watching the muscles in his arm flex with every strike, listening to the chime of the metal and how it differed slightly in some areas to others. 

  


Soon her gaze was drawn back to her surroundings and she spotted an oddly shaped helm hanging amongst the breastplates and axes which dangled down to her right. Arya reached up and unhooked it from the rest, flipping in over in her hands as she brought it closer. 

  


It was a bull. A beautiful bull, so smooth she thought as she ran her hand over its nose, even the horns bore no dent or bump. _I bet that Mikken would like this_. Arya smiled as she thought of the Winterfell smithy for the first time in seven years. 

  


“Don’t touch that!” came a harsh voice so suddenly that Arya nearly dropped the helm. She had become so lost in her thoughts that the sharp tones of the blacksmith boy came as a shock. “It’s mine.” he growled, striding over and snatching the helm from her grasp. 

  


Arya puffed out her chest. “Well I didn’t know did I.” she huffed. 

  


The boy looked up from his oh so precious helm and considered her with piercing blue eyes, made even more prominent from the fact that his face was blackened with dirt and soot. “What do you want?” he grunted after a moment. 

  


Keeping her eyes fixed on his, Arya reached to her side and produced Needle from it’s scabbard. “Here. Can you fix this up?” she asked, handing the blade out to him. 

  


Tucking the helm under his arm the smithy took Needle gently between his thumb and forefinger and examined it closely. “This is Castle forged steel.” he muttered, his bright eyes widening slightly before glancing over the blade and taking in Arya’s travel worn tunic and breeches and tangled locks of brown hair. “Where did you-”

  


“BASTARD!” The boy closed his eyes and sighed, his shoulders sagging as the roar of his master thundered through the small smithy, moments before the man himself appeared from around the corner. A tall man, half a head bigger than his apprentice, but big as well. The armless, black tunic was unfastened at the front and his large gut was bared to the world. He had a round head and a flat face with very little hair remaining. “WHY HAS THE HAMMERING STOPPED, BOY?” he bellowed, taking no note of Arya perched on the crate. 

  


“I’m with a customer.” the apprentice said coolly, nodding towards Arya, completely unfazed by the anger emanating from his master who turned to Arya and grunted before disappearing back around the corner. 

  


_He’s got thick skin this one_. She thought looking back to the smithy boy who had returned his attention to Needle. “So, can you do it?” 

  


“Course I can.” he replied proudly, handing Needle back to her and returning to the still glowing long sword. “But you’re gonna have to wait until I’ve finished with this one first.” Arya nodded but didn’t move from her crate even when the bull boy looked at her expectantly. “It might take a while. You could come back later if you have other things to do or people to see.” he added. 

  


Arya only shrugged and brought her legs up to her chest. “None that I can think of. Can I stay?” He looked up briefly, hammer in hand paused over the sword, nodded once before bringing the tool down with a loud clang. 

  


_He’s a bastard. Just like Jon_.  Arya thought watching him work, silently. Jon was always like this when he was training. Quiet, focused and ever so bloody serious. Were all bastards like that, is it because they are alone and have to look after themselves? But Jon was never truly alone he had her, and Ned, Robb, Bran and Rickon, maybe even Sansa. But they are gone now and Jon is at the wall. “I’m alone just like him.” Arya muttered into her knees. _And no one is left to look after me, but I can do that myself now can’t I. I don’t need anybody else_.

  


“I can take a look at that sword now.” Arya looks up at the blacksmith boy standing in front of her, he was still looking at her questionably, not even glancing at Needle when she handed it to him. He continued to stare at her for a moment, his mouth half open clearly wondering whether to say what ever was on the tip of his tongue. He had half turned away before he finally did. “Are you okay?” he asked. 

  


Arya’s eyes widened slightly in surprise before turning to the floor. “Why do you care, what’s it to you?” she replied, a little to coldly. 

  


“Well…nothing but I just though that…that…Seven Hells, I was only trying to be _nice_!” he swore, turning his back to her. 

  


As he walked away Arya instantly felt bad. But why he was just a stupid boy. A stupid bastard boy. Who was just trying to help me. Now who’s stupid! “I’m sorry.” She found the words coming out of her mouth before she could stop them, but he only flashed his eyes at her in reply. “What’s your name?” she asked as an attempted peace offering, unsure why it meant so much to her. 

  


“What’s it to you?” 

  


Arya forced herself to stay calm, even though she could already feel the anger building up inside her. 

  


“Nothing…I was just trying to be _nice_ ” she mocked. The stubborn, bull-headed boy smirked but still said nothing. “If you don’t tell me then I’ll just have to make one up.” Again, he said nothing, keeping his eyes fixed on Needle. “Fine then, don’t tell me you…you…Stupid, bull-headed, bastard boy!” Arya flung herself off the crate and made to go off around the corner. 

  


“Wait!” The stupid boy called. “Don’t go, it’s not safe. Not for a girl on her own, and it’s getting dark.” 

  


Arya, glanced out at the street. It was still winter here which meant that the days could be short, it couldn’t have been any later than late afternoon but the sky was already beginning to darken and she could see that a few stars were out. She hadn’t meant to leave, only to go around the corner so she didn’t have to look at his stupid face. But she wasn’t about to let him know that. “I can look after my self.” she said haughtily. 

  


“Oh, can you now.” he smiled, which made Arya even more irritated. “Even without this?” he dangled Needle by the hilt, looking very smug as he did. 

  


_Well, no_. She thought, not that she would admit that. “Hurry up and do your job then.”  

  


He grinned and gave a low bow. “As M’Lady commands.”

  


“I’m not a Lady!” Arya hissed, stomping back over to her crate. 

  


The Bull snorted. “I can tell.” he glanced up at her with those bright eyes, still grinning. 

  


Arya found her self grinning too. “Stupid, bull-headed, bastard boy.” she muttered. 

  


“Gendry…My name is Gendry.” he said quietly. “What about you?” 

  


“What’s it to you?” Arya teased. Gendry sighed and shook his head, but still smiled. “Ay-…Arry.” She told 

him after a brief moment of silence. “My name is Arry.”   

  


~oOo~

  


The stars were out when Gendry shook her gently by the shoulder to wake her. It hadn’t been a deep sleep as she hadn’t dreamt and had woken easily enough. Arya remembered that back in Winterfell it had taken both her mother and septa to wake her and even then she would be drowsy for a long while after and not much good to anyone.

  


“Here.” Gendry held out Needle in front of her, sat across a small bowl of something which smelled like and resembled a stew of some sort. 

  


Arya accepted them both, hesitant in her surprise. “Th-thank you.” 

  


He chuckled, reaching behind him where his own bowl was resting on the fire side. “I would wait until you’ve tried it before you start to thank me. I’m not nearly as good in the kitchen as I am in the forge.”

“Gods, do I dare to eat!” she teased, playing with a piece of meat with an apprehensive look. 

  


Gendry had pulled up a stool and was brandishing his spoon at her. “Hey, you’ve seen my helm it’s not that bad I reckon.” he argued with a mouthful of stew. “Even Lord Eddard Stark liked it. Remember him, he was the King’s Hand, got executed a few years back?” 

  


Arya had gone cold, her hand frozen over the bowl as she tried to force the images from that day on the steps of Baelor out of her mind. She nodded when she realised Gendry was waiting for a reply. 

  


Maybe he had realised he had said something wrong as he didn’t talk much after that and they ate their stew in silence. 

  


“I guess I’d best be going.” Arya said, sliding off the crate and sheathing Needle when Gendry had taken her empty bowl. 

  


“I suppose so.” he agreed in a slightly sad tone. “Where will you go?” 

  


Arya shrugged, following him around to the front of the forge. “Around the inns I suppose, I need to find some work.” 

  


“What kind of _work_?” he asked, his blue eyes wandering over her shoulder to look outside to the street. Arya turned around, following his gaze to see a whore sat on the knee of a drunkard who had his hand up her skirts. 

She punched him in the arm. “Not _that_ kind of work, stupid!” 

  


“Ow.” Gendry exclaimed, nursing his arm, his eyes turning back to her. “Look, I’m sorry! It’s just that when you said ‘inn’ and ‘work’ in the same sentence, I immediately thought-”

  


“That I was a whore? Well it’s nice to know where your mind is at least.” 

  


Gendry flushed red through the patches of skin visible through the dirt and looked to the ground. “You know that’s not-…Why do I even bother?” he sighed. 

  


Arya smiled triumphantly. “You learn quickly. Thanks for the work and the food.” she said as she turned toward the door.     

  


“Arry, wait!” she stopped close to the threshold and spun around on her heel, her eyes fixing upon him expectantly. “I’m gonna need you to pay for that.” he said, indicating to Needle at her waist. 

  


Arya paused and raised a hand to rub the back of her neck as she looked to the floor. “Umm…about that…” 

  


“Oh, no!” Gendry called, marching over, eyes wide with panic. “Don’t say it. Don’t tell me you can’t pay, Arry don’t!”

  


“I’m sorry Gendry, like I said I need work. I have no money, I promise I’ll pay you back. Double even, how does that sound?”

  


The bastard boy sighed and ran his large, blackened hands through his even blacker hair. “I believe you, but I don’t think that it’ll be enough for him.” he thrust his thumb over his shoulder toward the stairs where the master smith’s snores echoed down from. “He’ll skin me alive, or near enough!”

  


“Then leave.” Arya urged, flinging her own arm towards the door. “You have enough skill to be an apprentice for a Lord’s armourer. Why waste your time here?”

  


“Oh, and I suppose you know all about that know wouldn’t you, M’Lady!” Gendry quipped, his eyes boring into her grey ones.  

  


Arya stared right back and they stayed like this for a while longer before she declared. “Fine. I guess you know best, you stupid-bastard-boy!” And with that she spun back around and stormed out of the forge without a backwards glance. 

  


She half expected him to call after her and demand his money, but he didn’t. And she knew then that he never would. _Because he’s a stupid, stubborn, bull-headed idiot, that’s why!_

_  
_

That very moment there was a loud crash of falling mental that came from the forge that made Arya stop in her tracks. Idiot, is he going to ruin the whole place? She made forward again but only made it a step when there was another loud crash. Frustrated, Arya turned back and headed for the bull-head. 

  


“Seven Hells!” she cried crossing the threshold. “Are you going to wreck-GENDRY!”

  


The bastard boy was doubled over on the ground with a skinny man clutched on his back, his dagger to 

  


Gendry’s throat but the smithy apprentice’s hands around the hilt was keeping it from slitting his throat. 

“A-A-Arry.” he choked. “R-Run.” But Arya had already lunged forward, unsheathing Needle in one fluid 

move and before the lanky man had time to let go and defend himself, Needle was already imbedded in his side. 

  


The would-be-killer sank to the floor, his scarlet blood spilling from the wound. He let out one last long groan before Arya silenced him for good.

  


She got to her feet and wiped Needle clean on a rag from the side. Gendry stood by watching, breathing heavily but otherwise surprisingly calm. “This has happened to you before, hasn’t it?” she asked. 

  


He looked at her questioningly. “How do you know?”

  


“Because no one is this calm after their first near-death experience.” she said matter-of-factly. 

  


Gendry grinned. “Then I suppose that wasn’t the first person you have killed then?” 

  


“I told you I could look after myself.” Arya said, smugly. “What will you do now?” 

  


“Head of to another smithy.” Gendry sighed. “They usually don’t want me sticking around when stuff like this happens. Who knows, maybe I’ll even go to a Lord’s keep and be a apprentice there.” he flashed her a cheeky smile which she returned. 

  


“Well what ever you do, I hope you’ll be happy… and safe, safe is always good.” laughed Arya, turning back for the door. This time he did come for her, her did call out.   

  


“Why don’t you come with me?” he called. “It’s not like you have anywhere else to go, you said it yourself, and you do owe me.” 

  


Arya looked into his hopeful eyes and sighed. “I lied. I do have somewhere to be, right now in fact.” 

  


Gendry looked to the floor, the hopeful smile gone. “That’s alright, you go then.” 

  


“Goodbye Gendry.” 

  


“Bye Arry.”

  


~oOo~

  


Arya did actually have some place to go. On the crossing from Braavos she had received  a raven from a unnamed source, they had heard of a individual who is trained in the ways of the Faceless Men,  returning to Westeros and would like to buy there services. All that was required of them was to come to an inn in Kings Landing, which had a sign of Three Foxes, on the eve of her arrival and the details of the job would be revealed. 

  


Needless to say, Arya had been rather surprised to find herself with a request before she had even reached the capital, but she was glad all the same. 

  


The inn had been trickier to find than she thought it would be. Only after asking a good couple of dozen people did she spy the faded, hanging sign of the Three Foxes. 

  


It was busy inside with so many different convocations going around it was hard to follow just one. Arya fought her way through the crowd toward the back of the room. The letter had said that she was to meet with the messenger in the ‘back room’, surely that could only be in one place. 

  


Arya pulled back a thick, velvet curtain which hung across a small archway and entered into a tiny, separate room. There was a burning fire and two chairs set around it, one was already occupied. The man had shoulder length brown hair, streaked with flecks of grey and a beard to match; he was dressed almost entirely in black apart from the light grey cape which was flung across the back of the chair. 

  


He looked up from his cup, which he held in his gloved hands, when she entered but he didn’t say a word. 

  


Arya crossed the short gap confidently and took the seat opposite. “I’m here about the job.”

  


“Do you have the letter?” his voice was raspy and rough as if he had worn it out through years of bellowing orders at others. Arya slipped a hand into her right boot, produced the folded paper and handed it to him. “Very well, I must admit you are not what I was expecting from the Faceless Men.” he said after his sharp brown eyes darted over the page. 

  


“Why, what exactly where you expecting?”

  


“I’m not sure exactly. Someone older perhaps and a bit less… _female_.” Arya bit her tongue. _I’m just as strong as any man_. She wanted to yell, but she didn’t know this man yet, didn’t know what he could do or how much of a threat he was. So for now she would keep her thoughts to herself. 

  


It was harder than it sounded. 

  


“So what’s the job exactly, the letter wasn’t very clear?” she asked, trying hard to keep her voice steady. 

  


“I need you to kill someone, or rather my employer does.” _Simple enough_. “But before I tell you more, you have to agree to the job. You see my employer is a person of very high standing and would prefer that no word of this gets out. As such, they are willing to pay handsomely for your silence on the matter.” he set his cup down and locked his long, fingers together, bringing them up to his chin. “Do you accept? You cannot refuse the job after you say you will take it. Well, if you like living you can‘t.”

  


Arya thought hard for a minute. Odd as it may seem, on the surface it was just a standard kill job, which came with a large price tag and Gods know she might need the money, she didn’t know when her next job may be after all. “Yes.” she said. “I accept. Who’s the target?”

  


The man smiled behind his hands, the corner of his wrinkled eyes turning up. “A certain bastard boy who my employer is rather keen to be rid of.”

  


_A bastard_? Arya was surprised. She was expecting a high lord or council member perhaps, but a bastard? “Where can I find this bastard boy?” 

  


“It’s hard to say exactly.” the messenger admitted. “There have been many attempts at his life already, but so far none have managed to carry out the act. After each attempt he moves to a new establishment, making him difficult to track. This has left my employer…frustrated to say the least. And so she has instructed me to find a professional, a Faceless Man.” 

  


“But where is he, what establishments does he go around?”

  


“He’s a blacksmith’s apprentice.” Arya’s throat went dry and it was suddenly hard to swallow. _It could be any bastard blacksmith. There is bound to be a few around here. It doesn’t mean ‘him’ exactly._  

  


“Does he have a name.” she managed to choke out. 

  


“We are told that his name is ‘Gendry‘.”

  


"Of course." Arya sighed quietly. _You stupid-bull-headed-bastard-boy what have you done!?_

  



	3. Chapter 3

The next morning Arya returned to the smithy, she had spent the night at the Three Foxes which the messenger owned apparently so it was free. 

The smithy had his large back to her when she arrived, clearing the floor of the mess Gendry had made last night, but his apprentice was no where to be found. 

The blacksmith hadn’t hear her come in so when he turned around with his arms full of various bits of armour, he nearly dropped the lot all over again. “By the Gods girl. A little more warning wouldn’t go amiss next time, I’m a old man with a weak heart as it is.” 

“Sorry, I was looking for your apprentice. Is he around?” Arya asked, glancing around the forge. 

“Oh, him.” the smith muttered, bitterly. “That boy aint my problem any more, and good riddance. I was warned when I took him on, the others said that he brought trouble with him but did  I listen-”

“Do you know where he went?” she cut in, not wanting to loose anytime listening to a cranky old fart drone on and on. 

“North. Left early this morning, said he was gonna try and become a castle armour’s apprentice, or something like that. Stupid boy he got his head in the cloud if you ask-”

“Thank you!” Arya said pointedly before turning on her heel and running out of the hot forge.    

She ran and ran toward the main gate, if he was going north then he would have taken the Kings Road. She prayed that she wasn’t too far behind. 

Arya looked over her shoulder when she had a free moment between dodging various carts and horses, thinking of what the messenger had said last night. “Because of the number of failures, my employer has become impatient. She wants this done as quickly and quietly as possible. If it takes to long then I’ve been instructed to dispose of you and find someone else, understand?”

“Yes, in that case how long do I have?” 

“Lets just say, if he gets as far as Harrenhal and is still breathing… it’s over.”

“And you’ll know this, how exactly?”

“I’ll be… keeping an eye on you, can’t let you wander around with all this money alone now can we…” he dropped a large brown pouch on to her lap. “Call it an insurance for your silence and digression, courtesy of my employer.” he sneered. 

Arya lifted the bag with both hands. It was heavier than it looked. “Harrenhal?” she asked to confirm. The messenger nodded and so did Arya. “I’ll leave in the morning then.” she said, rising from the chair and heading for the door. 

“Are you not going to ask who my employer is?” he asked as her fingers wrapped around the handle. 

“I’m paid to kill not to ask unnecessary questions.” Arya replied stiffly. “Besides, you wouldn’t tell me if I did.”

The messenger smiled. “Smart girl. You have a free room here tonight, if you choose to stay.”

Arya turned back to face him. “In that case, I do have one more question.” The man opened his arms inviting her to continue. “I like to know the name of the person who invites me to stay before I accept.” 

He chuckled. “My men used to call me Fox, if that is of any use to you?”

“Fox? Is that because you’re cunning?”

“Something like that.”

~oOo~

It was a mile from Kings Landing when she spotted him, riding on the back of a farmers cart polishing that stupid bull helm. Killing him now would be too risky, the road was full of travellers and who knows how many might turn on her?

The cart was travelling slowly so Arya was able to catch up easily enough and hoist herself on to the space beside him. “ _Arry_!” he breathed, looking at her as if she weren’t real. Arya waved her hand once and gave a small smile. “How-What-Why are you here?” 

“I couldn’t let you go out into the big wide world alone, could I? Gods know what sot of trouble you’d get yourself into.” she teased.  

“Are you sure about this?”

“Course, like you said, I got no where else to go do I. Unless you’ve changed your mind, I can go if you want?” she put her hands on the edge of the cart, looking like she was about to push off. 

“No! - I mean, I want you.” Arya raised an eyebrow. “Not ‘want you’ like that!” he said hurriedly. “But that’s not to say that your not pretty or anything- Gods, kill me, kill me now.” he sighed putting his red face in his hands.

Arya laughed and rolled her eyes. “Stupid.”

It was nightfall when they reached an inn. The farming couple said that they were heading west in the morning and so they had best find their own way north. Gendry paid them for their trouble with a few coins from a small pouch on his belt.

Inside the landlady said that they were booked up but they were letting people sleep in the attic for half the price, there were no beds and they wouldn’t be alone. They took the room and Arya paid, slapping Gendry’s hand away from his belt when he made to pay. 

“That’s not right.” he protested after Arya had dropped the money into the landlady’s hand. “The man should pay for the lady, not the other way around.” 

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not a lady then.” Arya chirped. “Now go and find us a table whilst I get drinks.” 

Gendry glanced around at the busy room before folding his arms across his chest and remained where he was, his blue eyes staring defiantly into hers. 

“Go, or I will buy you _two_ drinks!” Arya ordered, throwing her hand on her hip and pointing out to the room with the other. He didn’t  move at first, continuing to stare her down before sighing in defeat and disappearing into the sea of people. _Stupid-Stubborn-Bull head._

He had found them a small table in the middle of the room and was sat slouched with his feet resting on the chair opposite him, which he removed seeing her approach. “Thanks.” he muttered as she slid the drink over to him. 

Arya looked around the room, watching the groups of drunks in the corner, punching each other on the arm and hollering suggestions at the bar maid. She watches the cat weave between the forest of legs, taking as many discarded scraps of food in its mouth as it can before tottering off through the open door. She watches the flies dance around the ceiling so fast that they are blurred black specks. She even watches the hot wax drip down the candle on the edge of the table, watching as it pools out when it meets the table only to turn a milky white as it becomes solid again. 

She does this to avoid looking at him, to keep the distance between them. But all Arya can feel is those piercing blue eyes fixed upon her every bloody second until she runs out of things to watch. 

Giving in, she props her elbow on the table and her chin on her hand before matching his gaze over the rim of her cup. “Why did you come with me, Arry?” he asked almost immediately. 

Arya shrugged and swallowed. “Seemed like fun.” 

“Is it true you have no where to go?” she nodded. “No family or anything. Who were your parents?”

“You wouldn’t know them.” Arya lied. 

Gendry did the same, still watching her curiously. “What’s wrong?” he asked after a moment. 

Arya gripped the cup so tightly her knuckles turned white. “Nothing.” she replied in as calm a voice she could manage. 

“Well that’s a lie cos something is defiantly wrong.”

“I said it’s nothing!” she cried, slamming her cup on the table causing some eyes to be drawn to them. Gendry looked at her, confused and a little annoyed. “I just- I just need another drink.” she sighed, sliding the chair back with a screech on the stone floor. 

Arya walked over to the bar, resisting the almost overwhelming urge to kick the bloke who slapped her arse as she passed him, in the balls. 

_That bastard boy is so stupid he wouldn’t recognise a hint to stop asking questions if it was slapping him around the face._ she thought as she waited for her order. _Gods be good that I don’t do him in right now!_ But she would never get out of this inn alive, or at least without serious injury. 

The bar maid slid her cup over and Arya turned back. She was edging her way through the tables when one man stood up so suddenly, that his chair pushed right into her, setting her off balance in her unprepared state causing her to fall into the lap of the man who slapped her arse earlier, her drink lost from her hand. 

“Oh, well are you a pretty little thing.” he sneered through his drunken smile, his eyes wandering down to her chest. Arya leapt back to her feet so fast it was like someone had lit a fire under her arse. But the drunk man had grabbed her wrist before she could move away. 

“Let me go!” Arya snarled, forcing all the anger and frustration she was feeling into her voice as possible. 

“Now why would I want to do that?”

“Because I will rip off your hand if you don’t.” the man only laughed and turned to his friends as he tried to pull her down again. She didn’t quiet rip his hand of, but his wrist did make a sickening _crunch_ when Arya slammed down into it with her free elbow. 

The man cried out with pain before turning back to her with fury in his eyes. “You broke my wrist you little bitch!” he hissed, standing up so quickly his chair toppled backwards. 

“Told you that I would.” Arya grinned, which only angered him further. Bringing his broken limb to his chest, the drunk swiped at her with his good arm. Arya dodged it easily and would have the next if it hadn’t been stopped for her. 

The drunk man’s face contorted with even more pain as Gendry squeezed down on his closed fist which was encased by his large, blacksmith’s hand. “I would leave the pretty, little lady alone if I were you.” he suggested in a mocking tone. 

“Alright, alright, just let go of my bloody hand y’bastard!” the man cried. 

Gendry complied, releasing his grip and turning away, dragging Arya by the upper arm. 

“What in the Seven Hells was _that_ ” Arya hissed, once she had managed to wriggle free. “Let the pretty little lady go? Are you _trying_ to make me pissed with you or are you just being stupid?”

“I just saved your sorry arse, in case you didn’t notice. You broke his fucking wrist, did you want him to snap your neck as a ‘thank you’?” Gendry spat. 

“I didn’t need you to save me, I was doing just fine on my own!”

“Oh really, well I’ll just let you get on with it then next time. On. Your. Own.” He had brought his stupid face closer to hers with each word until she could feel his breath on her face. 

Arya clenched her hand into a fist and stuck out her jaw. “That’s fine with me!” she said, throwing out her arms and stalking away up to the attic room, feeling more like the young girl she used to be rather than a woman grown. 

“Stupid-bull-headed-bastard-boy” she mumbled, crossing the room along a path between the sleeping, blanket-covered mounds. She settled down by the wall at the back of the room and curled into a ball. _I’ll kill him tonight._ Arya decided. _When he comes up, I’ll slit his throat whilst he sleeps. Maybe then he’ll stop being so damn stupid._

And so she waited, in the dark with her hand clasped around Needle’s hilt. But Gendry didn’t come, not for a long while. So long in fact that Arya had dozed off, her grip around Needle had slackened when Gendry finally joined her. Drunken and grunting her stumbled over to her, his feet shuffling on the floor, before landing clumsily beside her. He groaned as he lay down but they turned to snores quickly enough. 

Arya silently unsheathed Needle and leaned over. The moonlight had settled on his face through a gap in the ceiling and just as she set the edge of her blade to his throat, Arya saw that his nose was bloody and bent, his temple supported a huge purple bruise and his lip had been spilt. 

She felt her heart jump into her throat and her hand froze. _Did that drunk guy get back at him…or had Gendry gone for him himself?_ Either way, Arya found herself unable to pull Needle along his throat. _Not when he’s like this. Why did he go and get him self beaten up, stupid-bull-headed-bastard?_

The hatch to the attic opened and another couple of drunkards pilled through the door, Arya quickly slid Needle away and  turned to face the wall. _I’ll do it tomorrow._ She told herself, letting sleep take her away. 


	4. Chapter 4

Arya woke early the next morning, as she did most days. She hated sleeping she dreamt of horrible things, usually her family, seeing them cut down before her eyes with her helpless to save them. Other times she would dream she was a wolf running through the forests and she would wake panting, soaked with sweat and with the taste of blood on her tongue.

Thinking about it she hadn’t had a peaceful sleep since the night of the Red Wedding, so very long ago now.

Her eyes flickered open and the first thing Arya saw was Gendry’s face inches from hers. The sudden closeness made her breath catch in her throat but she soon started studying the lines of his nose, cheeks and chin; how his eyes moved under their sockets and how the corner of his mouth occasionally twitched upward.

Arya found herself sliding her hand up between them, her fingers stretched towards Gendry’s face in a sudden urge to touch him, to trace those lines herself. But as she was just about to place her finger to his jaw, Gendry jerked in his sleep, causing Arya to check herself and draw back her hand. _What am I doing!_ She thought, instantly horrified with herself.

Panicked, Arya gathered Needle, her small bag and hurried out of the attic room. _Arya Stark, where is your self control?_ She was still thinking when she sat down at a table. _You’re supposed to kill him, not stroke his face!_ The landlady brought her a plate of bacon, sausage and two eggs with a hunk of bread and some wine to wash it all down. _Now I need to hit something_. Arya decided, slamming the empty wine cup down next to the clean plate, with a little more force than intended.

She was still in the yard of the inn furiously striking a tree, leaving the bark cracked and chipped away in some places, when Gendry ambled up to her rubbing his head gingerly. “You look terrible.” Arya muttered as he leant against the empty barrels by the wall, his nose had been reset but the bruises looked even worse in the light.

“Mornin’ to you too.” he sighed, flashing her an irritated look but didn’t comment further. “Why did I drink so much last night?”

Arya shrugged, continuing to strike the defenceless tree. “I dunno, but if your going to look like that when you do, I wouldn’t make a habit out of it.”

Gendry reddened and pushed off the barrel, coming towards her. “You know, I only look like this because I-” he broke off, looking at the ground.

“Because you…”Arya urged, dropping her sword to her side.

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” he muttered before turning away. “If your ready, we should set off. The landlady says it takes five days walking to reach the next inn.”

Arya jogged after him. “Are you going to tell me then, why you look like that?”

“No.”

“Aw, come on. It can’t be that embarrassing? Tell me.”

He stopped in his tracks, so suddenly that she nearly ran into him. He paused and looked down at her thoughtfully for a moment before saying again, quite plainly, “No.”

“Fine.” Arya called after him as he set off again. “I wont come with you then.”

Gendry didn’t turn around, he just raised his hand and waved it slightly as he disappeared around the corner, back into the inn.

Not long after, Arya was perched on the wooden fence, picking at the ground with Needle and sending pieces of earth flying in all directions. “Are you coming then?” came a voice which made her look up. It was Gendry, stood in front of her holding his bag over his shoulder, looking at her expectantly. Arya only huffed and threw her chin in the air, looking away from him. She heard him sigh and mutter, “Suit yourself, M’Lady.” and then his footsteps walking away.

It took her until the sound of his footsteps had nearly vanished, to scoop up her bag with a defeated sigh, and follow after him. Gendry didn’t make a sarcastic jape or comment when she caught up, he just looked down and smiled, shaking his head in disbelief when she asked, cheerfully, “So, where are we of to?” as if nothing had happened.

~oOo~

They walked for hours along the northern road, the sun moving from east to west above the tall trees until it sank down behind the distant mountains, turning the sky a deep orange. They had talked for the first couple of miles but then the road had begun to turn rocky and the forest began to engulf it more and more. Making them have to concentrate on where they were placing their feet than the words coming from their mouths.

Soon the light left them completely and tiredness began to take it’s toll. Blind and stumbling they decided to rest up in until morning. They had taken a few breaks as they could on the way, the next inn was five day trek and they had limited supplies meaning they had little time to waste on resting.

They chose a clear spot just off the road and dropped their bags. Gendry insisted on getting the fire wood, when Arya protested - saying that she was just as capable as he was - all he did was put his large hand over her mouth and told her to stop being stupid. She had still managed to kick him hard in the ankle though.

Arya was already dozing against a tree when Gendry returned, with an unknown number of twigs and sticks under his arm. _I could kill him right now_. She thought, it was a quiet forest, no one around and he can‘t defend himself with his arms full. If there was one thing that was stopping her from jumping him in the day, it was the fact that she knew her could throw her off in seconds.

She could skewer him with a broken branch, crack his skull with a rock or jab him full of holes with Needle. But she did none of these things. Once that fire was burning and is heat washed over her, Arya drifted into sleep, all thoughts of killing erased from her mind.

This happened the next night, and the next until they were two days from the next inn and Gendry was still breathing.

On their last night on the road, they found that they had run out of meat. Arya decided that whilst Gendry made his trip into the forest to collect wood, she would go and find a rabbit or a squirrel or two. She was tiered but she didn’t mind because it was cold, so much colder then previous nights and it felt better to be moving around then stood waiting for Gendry.

She returned with a single, scrawny rabbit and a sour look. “It’s still winter.” Gendry reminded her as she threw the tiny carcass beside him and retreated to a tree. “There was never going to be a lot out there. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Arya said nothing as she pulled her blanket out of her bag and threw it over her knee. Gendry sighed and took a knife to the animal. When it was on a stick above the roaring fire he came over and sank down beside her. Arya wasn’t as tired that night, the blood was still pumping quickly through her veins from the hunt and she felt more alert then she had in days.

They sat, gazing at the fire until Gendry muttered, “So who’s Jon?”

Arya stiffened, her eyes as wide as plates.“How-how do you…?”

“You talk in your sleep.” he replied simply. “Well, you yell sometimes and start to thrash around something terrible. I sit there, feeling completely helpless, ‘She must be dreaming of such horrible things’, I start to think but then you lay still and start muttering again.”

“About Jon?” Gendry nodded.

“So who is he, you must have been close I’d bet?” he paused, a devilish smile crack across his face and an eyebrow rose in a knowing way. “You laid with him didn’t you!”

Arya thumped him in his side. “No I didn’t!”

The bastard boy only laughed. “Now I know you did.”

She turned and pushed her hands against his chest sending him toppling over, still laughing with a huge grin on his stupid face. “So was he any good, or have you had better?” Arya dove on him, hitting any part of him that she could reach and soon they were rolling in a tangle of limbs, dangerously close to the fire.

“You. Stupid. Bull-headed. Bastard. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stubborn. Boy.” she cried, angry tears burning in her eyes as she pounded her fist against his chest at every word. “You don’t know anything!” Gendry did nothing as she lay atop of him, her legs either side or his hips, watching her beat against his chest, the smile on his face replace with concern.

“Arry. Arry. _Arry_.” he said, managing to grab hold of her tiny wrists. “Stop. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.” He held both wrists in one hand and used the other to push himself up.

Arya glanced at him as his face became level with hers. “No, you shouldn’t have.” she mumbled, feeling the anger slowly ebb away. “And I didn’t lay with him…He’s my brother.”

Realisation dawned across Gendry’s face and a faint “Oh.” escaped his lips. Making use of the moment, Arya slid her hands from his, climb off his lap and headed back to the tree.

Neither spoke until Gendry brought the rabbit over, mixed with some vegetables they had left. “So, I talk in my sleep do I?” she asked, bringing a piece of carrot to her mouth.

“Most nights you do. Have you always had trouble with nightmares?”

“Only for the past few years, I never used too. Mother used to say that the world could come crashing down around me and I still wouldn’t wake.” Arya smiled at the memory. “But then my world did crash around me… and I never felt safe or relaxed again, not even in my dreams.”

Gendry looked at her sadly. “And, you felt safe with Jon?”

“I suppose I did.” Arya smiled at Needle, which was sticking out from her bag. “He’s my last link with home.” she paused and shook her head. “I can’t believe you thought I laid with him, stupid, bastard boy.”

Gendry laughed. “You were muttering this guys name in your sleep, what was I supposed to think?”

Arya shrugged, swallowing a bit a rabbit. “I don’t know about you, but I think that I should be slightly concerned how often your mind immediately thinks of _that_.”

“I don’t _immediately_ think of-” Gendry spluttered.

“Why do you care who I laid with anyway?” Arya didn’t need to look at his face to know it had turned bright red. Gendry only made a few attempts at defending himself, which came out as little more than wordless noises, before Arya saved him the trouble of replying. “Where’s my blanket?” she asked, rubbing her hands against her arms as she looked around her feet. Then she remembered that she had it when she launched herself at Gendry, so cast her searching eyes toward the fire. “Seven Hells!” she gasped, quickly leaning forward, her empty bowl falling to the ground.

Arya picked the remnants of her blanket from the edge of the fire, a small section of a corner, no bigger than her hand ,was all that remained.

“It must have fallen in the fire when you jumped me.” Gendry said, as she cast the burned fabric into the flames. She leaned back against the tree, still shivering, so Gendry took his blanket and handed it to her. “Here, take mine.”

Arya stubbornly shook her head and pushed it back. “It’s alright, I’m fine.” she insisted.

“Arry, look at yourself. You’re shaking like a leaf, just take the bloody blanket.”

“I said I’m fine-”

“By the _Gods_ , Arry!” Gendry exploded. “I’m not going to think that you’re weak if you take it, if that‘s what this is about! You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met but there is a thin line between being strong and being just bloody stupid…and I’m not sure if you know the difference some times!” Arya just looked at him, words lost to her. “So just take the damn blanket would you.”

She stretched out her hand to take it, “But what about you?” she asked as her fingers clenched at the fabric.

“I’ll be fine.” he muttered, flashing her a meaningful glance before shuffling around the tree, as they did every night.

 _I could kill you with this. Wrap it around your neck, tight, so you choke. Bundle it into a ball and shove it over your face, so you suffocate_. But she did none of that. Instead, Arya shuffled around with him so she was pressed up against his side and threw the blanket over the both of them. “Stupid, bull head.” she muttered.


	5. Chapter 5

“Arry…Arry…Arry…” Someone was shaking her. “Arry, come on wake up already.” Arya opened her heavy eyes to find Gendry knelt down in front of her, his hand which was doing the shaking, on her shoulder. 

“What is it? What’s wrong,… was I yelling again?” she asked drowsily, pushing her hair from her face. 

“No, actually. You didn’t yell or talk or anything.” he smiled,  “You were so deeply asleep that I didn’t want to wake you, but we’ve got to get going if you want to reach that inn by tonight.” 

“Oh. Ye, of course. Just give me a minute to get my things.” Gendry nodded and went over to his own bag. Arya gathered up the blanket across her lap and looked around for her own bag. Now that she thought about it, she had slept well. What ever she had been dreaming about had been forgotten the minute she woke, but it must have been a alright one because she didn’t feel scared and anxious as she usually did. She pressed her hand to her chest, _heart’s beating fine, no faster than usual._

Arya shrugged and reached her bag which was sat around the other side of the tree. She opened the tassels around the top to get inside and was just about to shove the blanket in when she spotted a folded bit of paper. Putting the blanket down on the ground, she picked it up and opened it. 

_It’s been nearly a week. It read. Are you certain you are a Faceless Man, I thought your sort were meant to be the best. My employer is getting restless, stop messing around and kill the bastard, quickly. There will be a messenger waiting in the next inn along, he will be requiring an update so I suggest you show some sort of plan if you want to keep this job and your life._

_,Fox_.

If Arya’s heart had been calm before it certainly wasn’t now. _He was here. Inches from us and I didn’t even notice!_

She didn’t have much longer to dwell on this as Gendry’s voice came suddenly from behind her, Arya jumped and quickly hid the note from view beneath the blanket. “You know why I think you slept so well last night?” he asked, arriving at her side. “Because you felt so safe and secure with your head against my shoulder, I’m right aren’t I.” 

“You wish!” Arya scoffed, throwing the bag over her shoulder and stalking past him before he saw the red flush to her cheeks. _That’s not true. She told herself_. “And my head was against the tree, not your shoulder.” 

She heard him chuckle behind her. “Of course it was. Ow!” he muttered when she turned and punched him hard in the arm. 

“Come on. I though we were in a hurry.” she called back. 

~oOo~

By the time they reached the inn, the note had completely left Arya mind. It was dark and they were hungry and wet, in the last few hours it had rained heavily and they had run the last few miles, tumbling into the inn drenched to the bone.

The landlady scurried forward the moment they entered, her arms filled with blankets and muttering about a fire as she dragged them over to the circular, stone pit in the middle of the room. There seemed to be most of the small amount of the inns occupants already huddled around the roaring flames, apart from a couple, a man and a woman in the far corner. 

Gendry wrapped the worn blanket the landlady had given them and ruffled her hair with it, drying off the hanging raindrops, before wrapping it around her shoulders and pushing her in front of the flames with her back pressed against his front. He allowed his laughing grin to turn into a full smile when  she didn’t fight back as he placed his hands on her small, shoulders. 

He didn’t know how long they had stood there. A few more soaked travellers had emerged from the black of the night and joined them around the fire so Gendry had to fight to keep their place, keeping tight hold of Arya and pulling her closer. 

Her head had fallen back to rest against his chest when the Landlady made her reappearance, providing a well timed distraction to save Gendry from the temptation of resting his own head atop of Arya’s. “Would you like some soup, my dears?” she asked in a motherly tone and a twinkle in her eye. “It’s nothing special, bean and bacon with a hunk of bread, but it warms your body right down to the cockles.” she looked at them, huddled together with his arms around her and her head on his chest. “Not that you two need soup for that.” she giggled. Arya attempted to reply, but her words came out slightly jumbled so Gendry said that soup sounded perfect whilst trying to keep the laughter from his voice. 

Once the older woman had left with a warm smile, Arya shrugged his hands from her shoulders and wrapped her own arms around her. Gendry could tell that her muscles had seized up from how she was standing. “Arry, are you-?” he began, reaching out for her again. 

“I need to sit down. Don’t you? I do.” the small girl said hurriedly, pushing past him and heading for the table near the window. 

The table she chose was next to the couple who had been sat when they entered. The woman had dirty blonde hair, a long face with thin lips and large dark circles around her brown eyes, the man was sat with his back to them but judging from the black string around his head, he had an eye patch. Both were dressed almost entirely in black and Gendry didn’t like the way the woman looked at Arya’s bag when it jingled as she dropped it down on the floor.  

“I think we should work out exactly where we are going.” Arya declared before he had even sat down never mind open his mouth again. She reached down to her bag and began to rummage around, “You still want to go to Harrenhal?” she asked pulling a map from the bags midst. 

“Yes, it’s the closest keep likely to need a blacksmith.” Gendry said, glancing over at the woman who was watching Arya with interest. 

“Well we can keep to the King’s Road or take the more westerly path which leads directly there, but it might not make a difference with it been a harder road and all…” she rattled on, keeping her eyes glued to the map, paying him no mind when he tried to make an input. “Well which ever one we choose, we’re still on foot. It would be so much quicker if we had a horse.”

“We have one.” Arya turned to find the blonde woman from the other table standing up and making her way over. “Well, it’s our spare but we wont be needing her after today. Your welcome to have her, for the right price.” her voice was rough and made her sound as if she needed to clear her throat. 

Arya looked slightly taken aback but she hid it well. “Oh, great but do you mind if I take a look at her first?”

The woman smiled, Gendry saw that a few of her teeth were missing. “Of course, she’s in the stable, come and have a look and then we’ll talk money.”

Arya nodded and picked up her bag as she stood, “I’ll come with you.” Gendry said, pushing back his chair. 

“No! It’s alright, don’t want you getting wet again.” Arya insisted, waving him back down with her hand. “Besides that nice lady might come with the soup. Stay, I wont be long.” 

He did stay but his hand grabbed her wrist as she past. “Arry, I don’t like this, I don’t like them.” he pleaded with wide eyes. 

She sighed, “Gendry, it’s fine. I can look after myself remember, and anyway you said that you wouldn‘t help me the next time I got in trouble.” and she slid her wrist from his grasp and gave him a small smile. “I wont be long , promise.” she turned and followed the woman out, feeling Gendry’s gaze on her back all the way to the door. 

The sables were around the side of the inn, the wind and rain were so strong that the sounds of the horses were nearly drowned out. The woman wrapped her long black cloak around her but Arya was left to drawing her arms in around her, making it a blessed relief when they made it to the shelter of the stables. 

The horse was white and speckled with grey marks, her eyes were huge with panic as the stable was less protected against the elements than the inn had been. Arya pressed her hand to the beasts neck in an attempt to calm it, she could feel it’s heart beating franticly. 

Suddenly there was a flash of lighting which lit up the whole stable and caused the mare to whinny as loud as the thunder which soon followed. Arya stepped away from the animal to give it room only to find herself trapped with a freezing cold blade pressed to her throat and a strong arm around her waist. 

“Just give me the money and I’ll let you go.” the woman hissed in her ear. Another crack of lightning broke the darkness and Arya cursed it for covering the sound of the woman’s blade being unsheathed. 

Her eyes flickered to her bag which she had dropped near her feet, she could see the tip of Needle’s hilt between the blankets. 

“Fine.” she growled, the woman let her down but still held the dirk against her throat. _I’ll have to be quick._ Arya thought as her fingers tightened around her sword. 

And she was.

As the lightning struck again Arya pulled Needle straight from it’s scabbard and thrust it behind her as she pulled away. She was quick but so was the woman. As Arya had moved, her dirk had pressed against the side of her neck and left a deep gash from her collar bone around her shoulder. 

Arya turned and saw that Needle had managed to pierce the woman in the chest, blood was ebbing in her mouth and threatening to spill over her lips, her eyes as wide as the mare’s. Both women sank to their knees and Arya swiftly removed Needle with one hand as the other clutched at the wound on her neck, the warm blood flowing quickly under her fingers. 

The blonde hit the straw covered floor of the stables, her eyes still wide and unseeing.  Arya’s own vision started to turn hazy. Bloody Hell!. she tried to stand but the room spun and she fell back on her arse, so instead she pushed her back up against the wall. 

_Gendry will come. He’ll find me._ The blood was trickling quickly down her back, the cut was longer than she first thought. _He wont be long. Soon, soon he’ll be here, you’ll see_. Her eyes drooped slightly but she keep them open, fighting to remain conscious by making herself count the flashes of lightning. 

Eleven. Eleven forks of lightning had passed before a figure appeared in the doorway. All it took was his voice shouting out her name for the smile to find her face again.

Gendry rushed over and cupped her face in his hand. “Arry, are you alright? What the hell happened?” he breathed in a ragged, short breaths. 

“Of course I’m not alright, stupid.” she laughed weakly, wincing when it caused her wound to sting.    

Gendry ignored her attempts at humour but took it as a good sign. He wrapped his arms under her knees and gently placed her arm around his neck, Needle still clutched, tightly in her hand. “Come on, lets get you out of here.” he declared picking her up with ease. 

Arya buried her head into his neck, his skin smelled like rain, he tightened his hold on her, pulling her closer and suddenly the pain in her neck didn’t seem as bad as it was a minute earlier. 

~oOo~

Arya only recalled small details of her journey to their room: the cries of the landlady as Gendry carried her back through the inn, asking if she could show them to a room; the brief, sudden wave of heat as they past the fire; the creak of the stairs and chime of the keys until her world turned on it’s side as Gendry placed her upon the bed. 

The last thing she heard was his voice demanding water and cloths before her vision turned black. 

When she woke, Arya was stiff and groggy, the last time she had felt like this had been in Braavos the morning after she had spent her evening in a tavern with a few extra coin. That morning she had vowed never to touch Dragon whiskey again for as long as she shall live. 

Her left shoulder was wrapped tightly in cloth, but she still cried out when she put the slightest weight on it to push herself up, so Arya made do with only one arm.  The room was blurred as her eyes adjusted to the sudden light, if his chest hadn’t chosen to make a low rumble sound at that moment, Arya was sure she would have spotted Gendry when she did. 

The bastard boy’s head was resting on his folded arms, right next to her on the bed. Whether it was her sudden movement or his own snoring that woke him, Arya wouldn’t know. All she knew was that her was there, by her side and looking at her with a wide-thankful smile across his face and in his blue eyes. 

“Is it too soon for the ‘I told you it was a bad idea’ speech?” he asked. 

Arya extended her good arm and thumped him in the shoulder. “Yes.” she replied, but Gendry still smiled and she couldn’t help but do the same. 

It was the smile that brought his own injuries to her attention. Gendry’s cut lip had been reopened and made wider, whilst she could still see some dried blood around his nose. “What happened?” Arya asked, leaning further forward. 

“You were attacked. That blonde woman she-” 

“No. I meant you, what happened to you?”

“Oh.” Gendry muttered, his hand raised to his lip. “This…the guy with the eye patch wasn’t especially keen on letting me outside.” he laughed, but Arya didn’t. 

“I’m sorry.” she murmured, her eyes dropping to her clasped hands in her lap. 

Gendry just shrugged. “It’s not the first time you got me in a mess is it.” Arya looked back up at him, her brow creased in confusion. “At the last inn?” he explained. “That drunk fucker who slapped your arse so you broke his wrist. Ringing any bells at all?”    

“But that had nothing to do with me, you got yourself into that on your own.” Arya said, defensively. “It’s not my fault you keep getting yourself beaten up is it!”

“Honestly?” Gendry muttered, running a hand through his hair and looking at her ask if she had sprouted an extra arm from her chest. “And you’re the one who calls me stupid.  Why do you think someone would keep getting hurt for you, Arry?”

“Because they are stupid, bullheads.” Arya, huffed. 

Gendry raised an eyebrow. “Apart from that.” 

She waved her good arm around, her mouth opening and closing so she resembled a fish as she searched for the right words. “I don’t know.” she admitted, finally. “It’s not like anyone has ever done that before…not for me.” 

Neither one of them said anything to this. Gendry was too taken aback by her words to string any of his own together. _How is that even possible?_ was his only thought for a long while. “Arry,” he murmured, taking her hand to draw her attention away from her feet and back to him. “how long have you been on your own?” 

Arya had started to chew on her bottom lip when he had taken her hand, she shrugged again. “Long enough.” she said, with an emotionless voice. “When no one sticks around, you kinda get used to being on your own, used to fighting for yourself.” 

For some reason, Gendry found himself smiling. “I know the feeling.” he sighed, lifting himself up and on to the bed. “But you’re no on your own anymore. I’m still here aren’t I?”

Arya allowed herself to smile. “But for how long? You’re here now but soon you’ll leave me, just like the rest of them.”

“I wont.”

“How. How do you know that?” 

“Because…Because…” Gendry began, but soon gave up and instead slid his free hand around the back of Arya’s neck and brought his lips crashing down on hers. 

For a moment she does nothing, a little voice in the back of her head starts to scream: _No! You’re meant to kill him, not kiss him!_ But as Gendry’s fingers starts to tangle in her hair and his tongue gently traces her bottom lip, Arya pushed the voice from her mind.  

Before she could think to react, he had pulled away and Arya felt disappointed. “That’s how I know. I should have done that days ago, Gods know you can’t take a h-”

The rest of his words were lost against her mouth as Arya pulled him down by the front of his leather jacket, with such force that he landed atop of her. Gendry’s hands landing either side of her, to stop himself from crushing her small form. 

Her teeth found his lip and she nipped down, careful to avoid his cut as her hand slipped under his jacket and began to claw over his shoulder. At this, Gendry moaned into her open mouth, his own hand gripping at her hip, his thumb digging into the soft skin just above whilst his other became lost in her dark hair. 

His lips left hers and began to trail down her neck, catching the occasional bit of skin between his teeth, making Arya moan into his ear and dig her nails harder against him. 

Forgetting himself, Gendry let his left hand drift from her hair down her neck, until it met the dressings of her wound and her moan turned to a gasp of pain. 

“Gods!” he cried, pulling away instantly, his hand hovering over her, searching for a way to help when there was none. “Arry, I’m sorry, are you alright?” he asked anxiously feeling ashamed at himself for letting his mind slip. 

“I’m fine.” she gasped, the pain he knew she was trying to hide still showed on her face. “Besides, I think I got you first.” she laughed, reaching her hand to his face and wiping her thumb against his lips, when she brought it back it glistened with blood. 

Gendry smiled before running his tongue along his bottom lip, clearing the blood away. “You should rest up.” he instructed, pushing himself away. Predictably, she immediately opened her mouth ready to protest but he cut her off before she could even start. “I’m not letting you go anywhere until you’re strong enough. So just do as I say, for once, and that’ll happen a lot faster.”

“But-” Arya began but one look from Gendry made her silent and he crossed over to the door from the bed. “Gendry!” she called as his hand wrapped around the handle, he turned back. “Thanks…for coming after me…I…I…” she trailed off, unable to think of the right words. 

“Get some rest, Arry.” he murmured, smiling in way that Arya knew he understood what she wanted to say but didn’t need to hear it. 

 


	6. Chapter 6

They stayed at the inn for three more days and Gendry hardly left her side. On the first day he had insisted that Arya stay in bed and not to exert herself, but of course she soon grew restless and could practically hear Needle calling to her from across the room. They spent the nights together, huddled up on the tiny bed and Arya wasn’t plagued by her nightmares as she had been until that night in the woods. 

The second morning she woke early, detangled herself from Gendry’s large, strong arms, grabbed Needle and slinked off outside. She had always found it odd to use her right arm instead of her left, but the blonde woman had temporarily rendered Arya’s preferred sword hand unusable so she had to make do. 

There was a stone wall which ran around the inn made of lots of different moss covered rocks of various types and loose in some places. Arya walked along it, placing her feet carefully not knowing which of the rocks would give way at the slightest touch. This proved a considerable distraction from the abnormal feeling which came from having her sword in her right hand. 

The Faceless Men had tried to teach her to use both but she never quiet got used to the feeling. 

Twenty minutes was all she got before Gendry found her. Arya had heard his heavy footsteps crossing over from the inn but it wasn’t until he cleared his throat loudly did she finally turn around.  With his arms folded over his broad chest and the disapproving expression on his face, Gendry looked especially authoritative as he watched the slight, injured girl balancing on the wall before him. 

Arya considered the fact that she would be suitably intimidated, if not for the unchecked amusement dancing in his blue eyes.   

“I’m not getting down.” she called, before Gendry could protest. “You can’t make me spend another day in that room, I’ll go insane.”

The blacksmith chuckled softly. “Alright.” he replied, simply. 

She looked down at him quizzically. “What, just like that? No fight? No insistent speech on a lady being fragile and in need of resting?”

“Pretty much.” Gendry said after a pause of consideration. “Actually, I’m amazed you lasted the whole day. I thought an hour or two at best before you made your escape. But of course, you knew that didn‘t you?”

Arya’s hand fell limp to her side, Needle’s blade hitting the stone with a tiny clang. _How did he know that? No one knows me that well, no one but Jon anyway._ “I don’t know what you mean.” she said, attempting to hide the shock from her face. 

“Really!” Gendry exclaimed in mock disbelief, his thumbs hooking around his belt. “What a surprise. Well clearly you’re feeling better, how about we plan our route tonight and get going first thing in the morning?” 

“Fine.” Arya muttered, her sword was raised and she had turned away again. 

Gendry chuckled as he walked away. “And she calls me stubborn.” 

_He’s right though, I am stubborn._ she thought, bringing Needle whipping through the air. She also had an overwhelming need to be right and win _all the time_. But nobody else knew that…except perhaps Gendry. 

Arya sighed and jumped down from the wall, wondering why she wasn’t as angry as she should be. He had used her after all, manipulated her, used her own stubbornness against her. But he was trying to look after me, even though I keep saying I don’t need him to. 

And then she realised why she couldn’t be angry at the stupid bastard boy. _He’s one of the only people who has bothered to understand me._

It had been so long since someone had genuinely cared about her, that Arya was surprised when a warm fuzzy feeling washed through her body. She smiled across at the inn. Maybe he wasn’t as stupid as she thought. 

On the last morning Arya was the one to wake up to find an empty bed. Running her small, long fingered hand over the patch of sheets where Gendry had been laying, she found that it was cold. He must have been gone awhile. 

Her injured arm wasn’t aching as much she noted as she pulled her old, battered jacket on, so she chose not to sling it up today. 

Upon asking his whereabouts to the landlady, Arya learned that he had gone off to the nearby pool earlier that morning. This was the first time she had heard of this pool and so the middle-aged woman explained the way and watched her leave with a knowing smile.  

Arya followed the landlady’s directions through the woods at the back of the inn, she heard the trickling of water before she saw it through a gap in the trees. 

The steam was rising from the water, some of it hovering just above the surface. Along with a pool there was also a small waterfall running down from a large set of rocks, that was where Gendry was. 

His tunic, breeches and shoes - along with his small clothes, Arya noted - had been thrown into a small pile by a rock, at the side of the pool. Arya perched on this rock and waited for the bull-headed bastard boy to turn around, as she had that first time in the forge. 

Only this time, her view had improved ever so slightly. 

Some of the water droplets clung on to the ends of his coal-black hair, which glistened in the morning sunlight. Others formed together, running straight down from the tips of his hair in thin streams down his well toned back. 

Arya watched one of these streams trickle down, curving around shoulder blades and following the path of the spine, right down to the surface of the pool, which concealed everything from the small of his back downward. 

Gendry disrupted the flow of water by running a large hand through his hair, before turning around. His eyes widened slightly when he saw Arya watching him from her rock. “You found me then.” he laughed, grinning sheepishly. 

“The landlady told me where you were.” she said, hopping down and removing her shoes so she could roll up her breeches to dangle her feet in the pool. “Enjoying yourself?” she asked, sending drops of water flying at him with a flick of her foot. 

Gendry raised his arms up in defence before flashing a cheeky grin and vanishing beneath the water. 

The ripples on the surface came closer and closer, Arya braced herself on the edge, her fingers digging in to the cold, wet dirt.  The ripples came to a stop and she waited, for what she didn’t know until she felt a strong hand fasten around her ankle. Gendry resurfaced, the devilish grin still painted on his face, and gave her ankle a playful tug making Arya jerk forward slightly so the tip of her breeches dipped in the hot water. 

“Now I’m enjoying myself.” he said, laughing at her briefly surprised reaction.

“Well that’s too bad.” Arya quipped, sliding her foot from his clutches and standing up. “We agreed to set off first thing, remember?” She turned her back and started to walk away. 

“Aw, come on Arry it’s lovely in here!” he called but she didn’t turn back. “Fine, it’s probably too hot for you anyway. I don’t think you could take it.” She could here the dare in his voice, the playful, confident edge to his tone which showed that he already knew he had won. 

And he had. 

Arya knew that he was using her stubborn edge against her again, but she didn’t care. No matter how much her brain yelled at her, reminding her that this is just like yesterday, she managed to ignore it. Because that warm feeling was flooding through her again and before she knew it, Arya was diving into the water, her clothing scattered around the place in her hast to get to the pool. To Gendry. 

Who splashed who first became anyone’s guess, soon the pair were circling each other, jumping on backs and dunking heads under the surface. 

Gendry extended his long arm out towards her, but Arya quickly flicked water in his direction and plunged into the depths. Her mind calmed enough to think, _Pull him under and drown him._ In the next few seconds Arya couldn’t even recall the thought crossing her mind. 

She resurface and Gendry was nowhere to be seen. 

Then his large, powerful arms enfolded her around the neck from behind and pulled her back until her back hit something, hot and wet. Arya stiffened at the sudden intimacy, something Gendry picked up on. 

He loosened his hold slightly and brought his mouth to her ear. “Did I hurt it, your arm?” he ask, concerned. 

Arya shook her head. “No, it’s fine actually.” she managed to choke out, now fully aware of their closeness and how she could feel  _everything._ It wasn’t a lie though, she hadn’t noticed until now but her arm wasn’t troubling her at all. Must be the warm water. She thought. 

“Good.” he growled, his lips finding her ear and they said no more. 

Arya heard a moan escape her lips as his teeth grazed her ear lobe and she sank further into the water, pressing her back harder against his burning chest. She even giggled slightly as he skimmed his fingers gently up her waist, barley touching the skin beneath them. 

All the while Gendry’s lips journeyed down her neck, taking care not to touch the gash in her shoulder which was still slightly pink. He was being so gentle but Arya just wanted to touch him back, even more so when his thumb brushed over her nipple. 

She had been with men before, in Braavos, but they hadn’t been as gentle as Gendry was being now. And Arya hadn’t minded, she hadn’t questioned it because it was all she knew. But this, was different. This is what had been missing. 

Her spin tingled when he touched her. Her legs weakened slightly just at how his lips traced her jaw bone. 

But old habits die hard, and so as she turned her head towards him, his mouth finding the corner of hers, Arya spun in his arms and caught his lips him hers.   

Her arms snaked their way up Gendry’s bare chest finding his neck and pulling him closer as she traced his bottom lip with her tongue before biting at it. 

He was taken aback briefly and let her guide him under the waterfall, pressing his back against the damp, back wall in the small cave-like area behind the flowing water. And then in that wet, cold place Gendry felt a fiery heat take over and he started to resemble her Braavosy men, his hand tangled in her matted hair and he started to bite back at her lips, neck collar bone, where ever there was free skin. 

Arya smiled into his shoulder and her nails, like with the dirt, dug into his back as he grabbed her and pressed her against the wall. Gendry’s lips crashed down on hers and she moaned into his mouth again and his hands slipped down to touch her at her neediest. 

Her hips arched forward toward him, urging him on and Arya felt her legs beginning to melt again. To keep herself on her feet - and  to provide easier access - Arya wrapped her long, toned legs around Gendry, pressing him right up against her. 

The next moan came from his lips, closely followed by her own as Arya lowered herself onto him. Gendry’s hand braced themselves against the wall on either side of her, his head nuzzled into the curve of her neck as their hips grinded against each other. 

Arya had her own arms gripping tightly around his neck, her back pressed hard against the cold wall as they continued to move harder and faster against one another. 

She was so close, Arya could feel it building up inside her. She was so close. It wasn’t until Gendry slowed enough to release a hand from the wall and bring it down to her did Arya stiffen, the heat washed over her whole body making it shudder as she felt Gendry join her, groaning her name into her ear. 

They remained huddled in the small cave for a while enclosed in each others arms until Gendry finally grunted. “We’d best be setting off, first thing you said.” 

He slipped his arms from her and took her hand. But Arya immediately missed the warmth of him on her back, he had only just made it under the waterfall before she had her own thin arms around his neck. “We do have all morning.” she cooed into his ear, he fingers trailing down his front. 

“I guess.” he murmured, catching her wrist in his own hand. 

“And you did say that it was lovely here.”

“I did.”

“So, we could sta-” Arya’s words were cut off when this time it was Gendry who spun around, lifted her from the water and carried her back behind the waterfall, whilst crushing their lips together.

Arya felt pleased with herself as her back hit the damp wall for the second time that day. _I know how you work too, my stupid, bull-headed boy._


End file.
